


Until You Need Me

by amoment



Category: The Black Suits - Iconis
Genre: 2012 version? 2013? who can say?, M/M, all we know for sure is nandon 2019 baby, i had to do something, is this the second fic for the black suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 07:20:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17382176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoment/pseuds/amoment
Summary: i had to do something about nato and brandon being boyfriends so i threw this together real quick and here it is





	Until You Need Me

Brandon knew Nato for years before he met him.  


Nato showed up at their school in third grade after having moved to Long Island from somewhere in New Jersey or something. He was strange even back then and quickly established himself thusly, prone to sudden little twitches of movement or sound, apparently just for the sake of moving or making a sound.  


By middle school his oddity was more coherent, and that's when he and Brandon actually met. They had biology together and happened to be assigned to sit next to each other. That was unprecedented. And Brandon was accustomed enough to his strange behavior to pay little mind whenever Nato was moved to entertain himself by folding a page from his notebook into a box, or when he started singing this one short phrase of music under his breath while filling out a worksheet, repeating it for the next twenty minutes only to stop with a sigh and inform no one in particular that his balls itched.  


Nato somehow always seemed to get excellent grades, just like Brandon, but Nato didn't really seem to be part of the social stratum of nerds that Brandon was. Nato didn't seem to really belong in any group. But, like Brandon, his grades and consistent completion of assignments afforded him some leniency from teachers, focusing their attention elsewhere, letting the nerds (and Nato) do their own thing during classes. Except there was this one Monday where Brandon just hadn't felt like coming to school, and he was on maybe four hours of sleep at best, and he had this vague on-and-off stomachache, and for once he just didn't feel like devoting himself to the packet they were working on in bio, or anything else.  


And after ten minutes of procrastination, during which he tried to read a more interesting book under the table, the teacher suddenly appeared behind his shoulder and made him jump a mile with an impatient, sarcastic remark that made about half the class look over. Brandon flushed and tried to ignore both the smirks and glances of complete indifference, and he flipped his packet over a page and stared bitterly down at the unanswered questions.  


"Hey."  


Brandon flinched again, temper further fraying.  


Nato leaned in slightly.  


"Mister Weylan's a total bitch."  


Brandon looked at him in bemusement. Nato just grinned, twirling his mechanical pencil between two fingers. Brandon hesitated, then looked back down at the paper in front of him.  


"This stuff sucks anyway. School is balls. Mondays."  


Brandon looked back over at Nato.  


"Yeah," he said in a low voice.  


"Brandon," Nato said. "...Keese."  


Brandon locked eyes with him for a moment, almost wondering if Nato was trying to pull something over on him. But there was that same smiling quality to his expression.  


"...Yeah. You're Nate, right?"  


"It's Nato," Nato said.  


"Oh...people call you that?"  


"My friends do."  


Brandon nodded slowly and watched Nato flip his pencil up in the air and botch a one-handed catch.  


Later that day he decided he wanted to eat at one of the quieter lunch tables and sat down with a casual "Hey, Nato."  


Nato had grinned that same way and passed him some barbeque sauce packets from the pile on his tray.  


It was kind of because of Nato that their band had become a real thing. Chris had decided he wanted a band, and John was the first person he went to with the idea, and Brandon was pretty much buddies with them both and he totally had a drum kit and actually knew shit about music. And since he and Nato talked every day, the formation of the band eventually came up, and Nato matter-of-factly stated that he had a bass he picked up from a garage sale years prior, and he even kinda knew how to play it some.  


After thinking it up one night, Brandon suggested they call themselves Jobranach, and Nato and John immediately agreed, and Chris said it wasn't cool enough but couldn't offer an alternative, so they went with Brandon's idea even though it was Chris's garage and technically his band and technically he was the leader. But after a brief period of slight indignation, Chris settled down, and by the next meetup he seemed to be totally over it. Jobranach usually met up a couple of times a week with no set schedule, and while they were in the garage they'd mostly just fuck around and pitch each other ideas and every now and then actually end up practicing a song or two. Sometimes things slowed down and they'd practice maybe once every other week, or there'd be a break for a month or so before Chris managed to coordinate another meetup. But band practice didn't become Band Practice until the spring of Nato and Brandon's freshman year.  


Nato didn't come to school one Thursday, and continued to be absent up until the second subsequent Monday. There was kind of this weird thing, because he and Nato had never actually texted or talked online or stuff, because they saw each other every day at school, and sometimes after in the garage, and once in a while even outside of that, and they'd just never really done anything but talk in person. So Brandon didn't really know what to do, and he asked John and Chris about it, even though there was no reason they'd know more than he did, but by Tuesday he was just getting sort of officially worried. And then he talked to a couple other people who sometimes hung out with Nato around school, until finally one of them told Brandon that Nato's grandpa had died. And this pressure was lifted out of Brandon's stomach, because that meant Nato wasn't the one dying or anything. He was just out of state.  


Then this strange feeling settled in that pressure's stead, because Brandon remembered actually meeting Nato's then-three surviving grandparents just the previous year. Nato had casually invited Brandon to his bar mitzvah, and Brandon had been a little surprised, and then a little more surprised to realize he did sort of genuinely want to go. And he remembered that he DIDN'T remember meeting either of Nato's parents back then, nor since, and he got a little worried again. He found himself more hung up on it than he might've expected to be.  


Nato's reappearance was unspectacular. That morning he was at his locker like it was just any other Monday. Brandon had spotted him quickly, and the feeling he got wasn't exactly relief, though that was definitely momentarily part of it. Everything just shifted into a new kind of concern, and the only thing he could really be sure of is that the emotion that struck him upon seeing Nato was a significant one. It told him right then and there that he really did consider Nato a legitimate friend.  


Nato acted weird during that first week back especially, and what acting weird meant in Nato's case was a sort of constant distraction; it seemed like he could barely focus on what was in front of him and like he was almost on edge, as if he knew he had forgotten something important and was struggling nonstop to figure out what it was. He didn't act especially sad or anything, which somehow made Brandon feel even less equipped to respond to whatever Nato was dealing with. He made non sequitur comments to whoever cared to listen the same as always, even smiled and laughed, even if there was an almost-nervous edge to it.  


All that day Brandon had been trying to think of something to say, or work out if he should say anything at all, but then during lunch Nato came over and asked if he knew whether they were having band practice anytime soon. And Brandon told him that he wasn't sure, but they totally didn't have to have band practice if he didn't feel like it. And Nato nodded and looked down at his tray a moment and then said to tell him if they decided when to have the next practice.  


Brandon found Chris at his locker at the end of the day and asked if they could get together for practice the next day.  


Nato seemed more himself the moment the garage door closed behind them. He still had that air of distraction about him, but that was basically normal when removed from everything else, when it was just another rehearsal and Nato was picking out random notes on his bass and shifting his weight from foot to foot and wandering aimlessly around the space, chatting and laughing and chiming in with the rest of them as they fucked around, eventually suggesting they play one of their especially loud and fastpaced songs, and throwing himself into it like nothing existed outside the garage. Even Brandon forgot, forgot that anything might be out of the ordinary for Nato. It was actually one of their best rehearsals yet, and went on until John suddenly realized he was late to get home and had to rush out.  


"Dude," Chris had said as John threw his coat on. "We gotta keep this going!"  


"Can't. I have to go," John said simply, tone subdued.  


"Well..." Chris huffed a sigh. "Let's meet up tomorrow, then. Guys? Tomorrow?" He turned and looked over at Brandon and Nato.  


Nato answered immediately: "Yeah, let's do tomorrow!"  


Brandon shrugged. "Sure."  


"Okay, tomorrow," Chris said with evident satisfaction. "John, rehearsal tomorrow!"  


And by the end of that rehearsal they'd once more agreed that they ought to meet up the next day, and ever since then Jobranach was basically a daily thing. And then The Black Suits was too.  


Brandon was never exactly sure why he kept wanting to go to rehearsal every day, why he missed it when he couldn't make it or it was called off. Their music definitely wasn't all that good, and they really only ever listened to just the simplest of the many suggestions Brandon would make for how to improve it. He wasn't even sure what the rehearsals were supposed to be working towards. But they were hanging out and it was fun and he was getting in practice even if they basically sucked. They did sort of get better, and Brandon even got the confidence to try his hand at writing songs, even if Chris would keep saying they didn't really fit their style and everyone kept trying to simplify their part and water the art down into something more generic. One time Brandon had invited Nato over to hang out in an effort to tamp down this stubborn sense of ennui, and Nato brought his bass and sat on Brandon's bed while Brandon sat at his keyboard and tried to improvise harmonies to the random musical phrases Nato plucked out, and Nato suddenly stood up and shifted the bass in his hands and informed Brandon that he had a song. And he launched right into it, and Brandon listened in utter bemusement and knew that if there was any song that their band would be less likely to play than one of his own, it was this. But Nato was into it, tilting his head back and nodding along and shifting his weight in time, and Brandon figured that Nato's own enjoyment was probably the entire reason for the song's existence in the first place. And even though he didn't think it was any good, he had fun backing Nato up.  


He'd never fully realized how big a deal that was until he was drumming for McFly. Everything felt off from the very first rehearsal. Things were actually organized and everyone was taking it seriously and there were no tangents that led to twenty minute pauses between actually practicing songs, and the music was better, and his skills were actually being put to use. But it felt like nothing. By the end of the first week he all but hated it. There was no way he was going to be able to continue with it every day the way he could with The Black Suits.  


He'd called Nato up to ask him about how things were looking with the band and if Chris had seemed to pull himself together at all. But he'd only managed to ask one question before Nato's answer turned into a flood of chatter about everything and nothing at all until suddenly it came to a complete halt and Nato said he needed the band to get back together, and he knew Brandon was probably still mad at Chris (which, he was, and he was surprised Nato stated this so surely) but he really needed the band again, he needed them all to be back in the band. And Brandon heard that same note in Nato's voice that he'd heard back when the band first started meeting up every day, when Nato would suddenly drop everything and announce he had to use the bathroom and bail in the middle of a song and take ten or fifteen minutes to turn up again.  


That note had convinced Brandon to admit that it wasn't working out with McFly and that he kind of wanted the band to get back together too. And then all at once Nato was crying, and Brandon needed the band to get back together.  


"Dude," he'd said, laughing lightly.  


"This fucking sucks," Nato said, laughing back. He drew a wet sniff and laughed again.  


"No, yeah it totally does."  


At first it had seemed kind of embarrassing that it had only taken a week without rehearsals for them to feel so desperate for the band to reunite. But it didn't take long for Brandon to figure out that it wasn't just that they weren't seeing each other, it's that with every passing day it seemed more and more likely that they wouldn't see each other again, like, ever. It wasn't like they had school to bring them together every day. Summer was nearing its end and he and Nato were about to go out of town to their respective colleges. If things ended like this, it was over.  


And every day without rehearsal was a day they didn't shut everything out behind the garage door and create this world of their own in which they could be the versions of themselves that nobody else really wanted. The noisy, shitty music they made was like nothing Brandon could ever find anywhere else. He knew it.  


Their performance at the Saint Anne's Battle of the Bands was a spectacular victory, no matter what anybody outside the band thought or said or felt. They didn't collapse in on themselves, they exploded out like a supernova; nothing could stop them.  


They were all kind of riding the high afterwards. It was pretty shitty timing that Brandon had to leave for college the next morning. But there was this sense of satisfaction too, like they'd proven the band to each other, if not to anyone else.  


He and Nato walked to the parking lot without actually saying anything. Brandon expected Nato to split off in his own direction as soon as they stepped onto the gravel, but he continued on beside him until they got to Brandon's car.  


Brandon turned to look at Nato, trying to figure out what he could say to serve as an adequate goodbye. And Nato looked equally lost, and they both stood there for a few seconds, wavering.  


"...You have to leave in the morning?" Nato said, almost wincing.  


"Yeah. It's a four hour drive and my parents want to get back before too late and stuff, so..."  


"Man..."  


"Yeah." Brandon breathed a laugh.  


Nato didn't look any less lost.  


Brandon felt an impulse and he went with it. After all, it was what the performance, their band, had been all about.  


"You wanna come over?"  


As soon as he got home, his parents asked a headspinning mix of questions about the show and whether he had everything ready to go for tomorrow and how well he remembered the schedule they'd decided on. Neither of them questioned Nato's presence, and Brandon quickly dragged him away and into his room, where Nato immediately flopped down on his bed.  


They talked about the band for an hour, and then they talked about college, and right after Nato suddenly said that he was a little scared to be on his own again, Brandon's dad called them for dinner.  


Brandon was worried Nato would try to leave afterwards, and made up his mind that he was going to ask him if he could stay a little longer if he did. But Nato was apparently just as reluctant to part ways just yet, and they went right back to Brandon's room. Nato sat on the bed again. Brandon reassumed his seat by the keyboard.  


There was silence for a few moments. Brandon felt another impulse and switched on the keyboard, turning its volume down. He played a few notes of Nato's song.  


Nato laughed. Brandon smiled to himself and threw in the harmony he'd thought up for it one day while he was dragging himself through another McFly rehearsal. Nato sank back onto the mattress and sang along.  


Nato kicked a foot up in the air as the song ended. Brandon wandered up and down the keys, playing random notes.  


"...It's gonna suck not having the band," Nato said.  


"Yeah. I sort of miss it already."  


"I guess we've got half of it still here. My song rocked."  


Brandon laughed.  


"No, yeah, it did," he said. "You were really good."  


A half hour later it was twilight, and the room got so dim Brandon had to flip on the lamp on his desk.  


"You have to get up early, huh," Nato said morosely. He sat up.  


"Yeah."  


There was a pause.  


Nato stood. Brandon copied him.  


"Okay," Nato said.  


They looked at each other. Then Nato walked over and hugged him.  


Brandon hugged him back, pulling him closer. He felt Nato's fingers dig into the fabric against his back.  


Brandon waited until Nato leaned away. It took a long time. Nato looked down.  


"Dude," Brandon said quietly. "You don't have anything to do tomorrow, do you?"  


Nato shook his head.  


"Do you just want..." Brandon started. "Could you just stay? For tonight? I know it's dumb but I'm totally nervous too and I just, if it's okay, it would be really cool if you didn't have to go, or..."  


"What...wait, really? You want me to stay here?"  


Brandon hesitated.  


"...Yeah."  


Nato stayed.  


They got into Brandon's bed without discussing it, laying on their backs.  


"...I wish you didn't have to go to California over break," Nato murmured.  


"We might not. I dunno. We usually do but we might not."  


"Next June isn't until forever."  


"No, yeah. It kind of sucks."  


They were quiet.  


"I might completely suck at college."  


"There is _no_ way. You're like, the best at school," Brandon said. "You'll be fine."  


He got no answer.  


"Nato? Seriously, you'll be fine."  


Nato let out a rough breath and rolled over to face him.  


"I hope so." His voice was almost inaudible.  


Every impulse had served him right so far, so Brandon rolled onto his side to face Nato, too.  


"It was such shit without the band," Nato murmured.  


"College is better," Brandon reassured him. "You'll get to learn all that shit that you like every single day and you'll be awesome at it. You'll love it."  


Nato laughed softly, like Brandon had never heard him laugh before. He felt his chest tighten.  


"You're cool, Brandon," Nato whispered.  


Brandon laughed.  


"Yeah, well, you're pretty cool, too."  


"Aw."  


Brandon put his arm across Nato's shoulders in what was going to be a loose hug, except then somehow he was moving his hand down, slid it all the way to rest on Nato's waist. And then he froze there.  


Neither of them moved or spoke.  


"Shit," Brandon finally breathed. "Sorry. Fuck."  


He pulled his hand away fast and shoved his face into his pillow in a spasm of humilation.  


Nato's hand was on his shoulder. It pushed him onto his back. And then Nato was kissing him.  


Brandon gasped against Nato's mouth; Nato's hand moved to brush Brandon's jaw. A whole lightning storm of thoughts jumped back and forth through Brandon's mind before the clear impulse emerged. He reached up, cupped the base of Nato's head, and kissed him back.  


At the chime of his alarm he found himself way too tired to be awake and pinned beneath Nato's arm across his chest.  


Luckily he'd had Nato over for sleepovers before and his parents didn't question it and were too focused on moving the last of the luggage to the van anyway. When Brandon asked if Nato could ride along, they were only nonplussed for a moment before assuring him that all that mattered was that they leave in the next ten minutes before traffic started to accumulate.  


Nato's presence soothed so much of Brandon's anxiety. And when Brandon reached over and slipped his hand into Nato's and Nato stroked his thumb over Brandon's, it really felt like all of this was okay.  


They stole at least a dozen kisses in his dorm room while bringing in everything that had been packed, but the way Nato kissed him when they snuck off to the hall's bathroom was like a dramatic declaration of love in and of itself.  


"Jeez," Brandon laughed, a little short of breath. "This isn't the end, Nato. You know that, right?"  


"Yeah." Nato wound the fabric of Brandon's shirt around his fingers. "But you should try and convince me anyways."  


Brandon smiled and stroked Nato's hair across his forehead.  


"You're my favorite, Nate," he said. "I even love your song."  


Nato grinned.  


"It's the best," he laughed.  


"Yeah," Brandon agreed. "It's the best."  


Nato took his hand and squeezed it.  


"C'mon," he told Brandon. "Let's find the vending machines."  


Brandon fell asleep that night to the thought of a Long Island winter's day.

**Author's Note:**

> in this case he’s using “nate” as the nickname for “nato,” not the other way round. thanks


End file.
